


Concerning Dress Code In The Sunfury Spire Laboratories

by lilithqueen



Series: From Ashes [2]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: M/M, Rommath Has A Problem, freckles everywhere, indecently short shorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 07:49:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9810005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithqueen/pseuds/lilithqueen
Summary: During the tail end of the campaign on Draenor, all is not well back home in Silvermoon. Progress in Sunfury Spire's golem labs has plummeted, and it can largely be traced back to Aethas Sunreaver's idea of practical summer attire. Rommath finds himself understanding why.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZephiraZ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZephiraZ/gifts).



“And why, pray tell, has there been nothing new to report from the golem lab all summer long? Have we encountered an unexpected roadblock?”

The apprentice fidgeted under Rommath’s stare, ears flicking as she looked away. “Ah, forgive us, Grand Magister, it’s this weather…”

He considered that. _Well, it has been disgustingly humid this year, and I suppose we can’t all be fire mages._ “Is that all? I’ll have extra cooling enchants put in.”

“Well…”

And she was dithering, which he hated. “Out with it!”

“Not _just_ that. It’s—well, perhaps you should see for yourself.”

With the machinery in full throttle, the golem research labs really were unpleasantly warm; Rommath murmured a frost cantrip under his breath and breathed a sigh of relief as the temperature around him dropped to a bearable level. Even with the windows open there wasn’t much of a breeze circulating through the cavernous space, and he took note of the apprentices and junior magisters who had discarded their robes in favor of shorts. _Socks with sandals? I see Sunreaver’s been rubbing off on them. The boy really has no sense of style._

The apprentice gestured to the decommissioned anima golem squatting in the center of the room. “Archmage Sunreaver’s been doing all he can, sir.”

Something clanged within the machine, and Rommath’s ears twitched as Aethas called out, “Any of you see a box of screws lying around?”

He decided he really should learn the name of the apprentice by his side, who was trotting forward with the mentioned box. “Here, sir!”

“Oh, thank you, I thought I’d taken it with me…”

Aethas was clambering out of the golem’s innards, bright eyes wide and apologetic behind thick protective goggles, and for a moment Rommath was sure his frost cantrip had worn off. The young mage had clearly been spending time in the sun; the freckles that covered his face and ears had spread like wildfire across every inch of bare skin. And there was a _lot_ of skin exposed; Aethas had clearly chosen to dress for the summer’s heat, and his thin tank top and shorts left little to the imagination. He was stocky rather than lean, with a build Halduron had disapprovingly termed ‘squishy’ until Aethas had threatened to burn his hair off (Lor’themar had stopped suggesting drinking nights together after that), but the faint definition of muscles in his arms and legs implied he did use them occasionally; Rommath found his eyes straying to the swirls of freckles across his thighs and fought back the little voice in his head that whispered _don’t you want to find out if he really does have them everywhere?_

Something clonked a few tables away; apparently one of the apprentices had dropped something, and Rommath lifted his head to find the source of the noise blatantly ogling Aethas’s round backside. In fact, now that he noticed, most of the room suddenly seemed to be paying rather more attention to their superior than to their work. The apprentice who had led him in was blushing, and he had the strong desire to snap at her.

“Grand Magister.”

Aethas had finally noticed him. He willed himself not to turn red as his gaze snapped to the young mage’s face, but judging by the heat he could still feel he had a sneaking suspicion it was a lost cause. Aethas had pulled his hair up into a messy copper bun; even the back of his neck was freckled, and it gave Rommath a sudden urge to bite them. He took a breath, steadying himself. _You have noticed the overly sincere thorn in your side is attractive. Congratulations. It changes nothing between us; he is still a pathetic young pup, and more trouble than he’s worth._ “Sunreaver. There has been a noticeable drop in reports crossing my desk from your lab.”

He pushed his goggles up in order to glare more effectively, which absolutely was not something Rommath should have found endearing. “With all due respect, I am _still_ trying to undo whatever that oaf Astalor did to turn a succession of _my golems_ rogue. When I have found a solution, rest assured you will be the first to know.”

Despite himself, he couldn’t stop the twinge of guilt; he had been the one to put Astalor in charge of the golem forces on Draenor, and it had seemed like a fine idea until he’d been told that several well-tested anima golems had suddenly decided to attack their own camps. “Well.” Come to think of it, he wondered if he should apologize for that—but Aethas was watching him with narrowed, suspicious eyes, and now was not the time to show weakness. He stiffened his ears, putting on his coldest face. “Get back to work, then.”

“By your leave, Grand Magister.”

For one who was barely passable in high society, Aethas could still wield heavy sarcasm with the best of them, and didn’t wait to be dismissed before turning on his heel and scrambling back up into the golem with his tools. _A proper mage would have floated up_ , part of Rommath’s mind thought, but a much larger part found itself glued to the play of muscles as Aethas moved; as clumsy as the mage could be sometimes, he was more than flexible enough around heavy machinery _. Certainly can’t blame the apprentices, with an ass like that on display…_

The one who had originally fetched him was glancing at him nervously, and he snapped out, “I’ll have twice as many frost spells applied to the walls. I trust that will be acceptable?”

 _As for myself_ , he thought sourly _, I am going to put this out of my mind, whatever it takes. Even if it must involve a very cold bath_.


End file.
